


A Roll of the Dice

by Tentacular



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-04-13 13:03:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4523133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tentacular/pseuds/Tentacular
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ron brings home a pair of novelty dice, he and Hermione learn that while sometime you should just roll with it, sometimes you have to take matters into your own hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Roll of the Dice

**Author's Note:**

> As much as I wish I did, I do not own any bit of Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, or any bit of the HP world.

“You can’t say no to the sex dice.”

The look of absolute certainty just makes Hermione laugh. “Ronald. No.”

“But—”

“No. I don’t care what the sex dice say.” She laughed. “I am not going to let you _lick_ my _hair_.”

Ron laughed too, his blue eyes shining. “Alright yeah, maybe that one was a bit . . . Lousy.” He snatched the dice up from the table and began to shake them in his cupped hands, “but this one will be good.”

He let the dice fall to the ground with a clatter. As he did, both he and Hermione leaned forward to read them.

“Spank and eyes?” she shrieked. “These are ridiculous.”

Ron covered his face with his hands, sighing loudly. “Alright then, you roll them. I’m obviously rubbish at it.”

He heard her pick the dice up off of the floor and shake them around for a moment. 

“There, that’s much better.”

He didn’t uncover his face. “You didn’t roll them.”

“No,” she agreed, “I used magic to randomize them.”

He moved his hands to his knees and looked down at the dice in front of him. “Massage and Whole Body?” he read aloud, “Bullshit! You cheated!”

“I did no such thing. It’s not my fault that I’m better at rolling dice than you are.” She grinned at her boyfriend, tying her long, bushy hair into a braid down her back. “Now lie down on the bed.”

“But I—what?” Ron stopped mid-protest, processing what he was being told to do. “But I thought I—”

“Would you rather be the one doing the massaging?” she raised an eyebrow at him.

“I s’pose not.”

“Then get up onto that bed.”

He grinned a bit sheepishly. “Yes ma’am.” He stood then, his lanky frame rising high above Hermione still siting cross-legged on the floor. Glancing down at her, he pulled off his t-shirt and dropped it to the floor before lifting his knee to the bed.

“Ah!” she held up a finger, telling him to wait. “What do you think you’re doing? How on Earth do you expect me to give you a proper massage through all that denim? Off with the pants, too. Go on.”

He had grown very used to Hermione being bossy. It was one of her defining traits, he would say. But it was very different now, here in the bedroom all by themselves. Here she was usually shy, waiting for him to take the lead. Ron caught his breath before nodding again and reaching down to undo the button and zipper on his trousers. As he let them slide off his hips, he noticed that from where Hermione was sitting she was at the perfect height to—

“Get up there, then.” She made a shooing motion at him before he could complete his thought .

“Oi, what about you?” he gestured down her body, which was still covered with a skirt and blouse.

She smirked. “Excuse me, I am a _professional_. If you wanted something different, you should have learned to roll dice properly.”

Grumbling something about things being unfair, he laid facedown on the bed, his arms folded beneath his head. He felt a weight on the bed as Hermione joined him somewhere near his feet. She began to rub them, slowly and lightly at first, rubbing away and knots she could feel. When he let out a small groan she pushed a little harder and moved up to his ankles.

“That actually feels great, ‘Mione.” He sighed and she rubbed his calves. 

“Well what did you expect?”

“I dunno, I guess I thought you would make me do it, for one thing.”

“You know full well we would not have gotten the full massage done if we did it that way.”

“Would that have been so bad?”

“You can’t say no to the sex dice.”

He laughed softly, ending in another groan as she scooted up the bed, working her way slowly up his legs. She was almost to his knees now, and he found himself wondering what would happen when she got a little higher. As she put pressure on his thighs he felt a completely different pressure on the bed itself from a little further up. As she reached his bum his head twitched, unsure of what she was going to do but totally enjoying the feeling of her hands all over him. But she did not reach around like he had hoped she would. 

Goosebumps traveled up his body and a small shiver ran down his spine as she began to work on his back. After a moment she moved again so that she was straddling him, working on his back muscles with intense focus. She made a small, contented sigh as she moved from his back to his neck to his arms, working her way down until she reached his palms and rubbed away at the calluses. 

Ron laid there on the bed. Quite aside from being completely relaxed now, he wondered what she would do once she was done. He didn’t have long to wait, however. Slowly, she finished with his second hand and brought the fingertips to her lips, kissing them softly. He smiled, his face still pressed into the pillows, but then gasped out loud as she ran her tongue along his fingertips, sucking briefly on his middle finger.

“Hey now!” he turned to face her. “That’s not what we agreed on!”

She raised an eyebrow at him again. It was an expression he was used to, and one she was used to making by now. “You are so bad at this!” she sighed. “Do you want to get on with it or not?”

“Get on—get…” he trailed off as he worked out what she was getting at. “But the dice—”

“Oh, forget the dice, won’t you!” she sighed loudly and animatedly, crossing her arms in front of her.

He laughed. “Well alright then, if that’s what you want.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. He laid back once again, this time keeping his eyes on Hermione. Maintaining eye contact, she began to unbutton her blouse. He reached his hand out to help but she slapped it away.

“Ouch!” 

“You baby.” She smiled indulgently, red lips parting briefly, before she seemed to remember her new, stern role. “Mustn’t touch.”

Ron for his part could not decide which he found more sexy—the shy, nervous Hermione, trusting him to take care of her or this confident and in-control Hermione, who seemed to know exactly what she wanted and how to get it from him. He prayed he would never have to choose between the two. “Are you gonna stop me?” he reached slowly forward again, knowing full well that she would in fact stop him.

She reached for her wand before he could blink and pointed it at him. “Naughty boys need to be put into time out.” She told him calmly. With a careful flick of her wand, ropes shot out of them. They wrapped themselves around his outstretched wrist, pulled it gently to his other wrist still laying on the pillow, then fixed both of them to the headboard. The ropes were different than the ones he had always seen produced from wands before. These were so soft on his skin; he guessed they were made of silk or something similar.

He blinked and stared at her. “Blimey, Hermi—”

She held up a finger. “Ah! Do you really need more punishment already?”

He considered teasing her further but decided against it. He merely shook his head, flicking hair out of his eyes as he did so.

“Now then. Where was I?” she paused for a moment, as if she was thinking, then said, “Oh, yes.” Moving to kneel on the bed next to him, she began to once again unbutton her blouse. Before long he could see her breasts, round and perfect, peaking out from behind a simple cotton bra. Ron stared unashamedly as Hermione pretended not to smile back.

Instead, she moved over him. She still wore her skirt but as she straddled him she could feel him, hard and ready for her. It made her excited, almost more so than seeing him obey her had done. She pressed down with her hips, rubbing up against him. A small whimper came from him. 

“What’s wrong, Ron?” she pouted. “Too much for you?”

His eyes widened and he shook his head several times, but he didn’t speak. 

“No?” she put a finger on her chin and crossed her arm across her in an over the top gesture of thought. “How can I make this more interesting for you?” she cocked her head to the side and grinned wickedly at him. “I know.”

With that she stood next to the bed, stripping her socks off as she went and throwing them into the corner. She was sure to lean over carefully as she did so, aiming her backside in Ron’s direction. Then she hiked her skirt up and pulled her knickers down, scooping them up in her hand. She hesitated briefly before turning to face him. She leaned far over, bending at the waist to kiss him. He tried to push his tongue into her mouth but she pushed back before standing up again. She then put forward her arms and laid her underwear carefully across his face.

The response was immediate, and much stronger than she had anticipated. He sucked in a mouthful of air, and as soon as he caught her scent draped over him, he whole body shook as though it was searching for her. She smiled as she climbed back on top of him, positioning herself over his hips once again, his rock-hard length pushing at the gap in his boxers as it tried to get to her. Gently and carefully, she pressed herself against him. She rocked back and forth several times, listening to Ron’s groans getting louder each time. She began to pant, her body crying out for him just as much as his for her. 

Finally she leaned forward and whispered into his ear, “How do you like that?” she hissed. “Do you like smelling me, imagining it’s actually my body up there for you to smell instead of a cheap imitation?”

He groaned again, pressing his body against hers. She felt him nod.

“Think you ready for the real thing, then?”

He nodded again, faster this time. 

With a nervous grin, she pulled her underpants from his face and threw them on the ground. He was breathing heavily, as though he’d been running, with a flush appearing on his cheeks. “Ready?” she asked him.

“Oh hell yes.” He nodded again and breathed deeply.

Hermione moved up his body slowly until her knees were level with where his hands were tied up. She then lowered herself down over Ron’s face, where he leaned forward eagerly to greet her. 

He ran his tongue along her and inside her, making her gasp. He did it again, slowly, pushing his face forward to get at her better, his tongue flicking inside her before rubbing her clit gently. Hermione moaned, pressing her palms against the wall in front of her and throwing her head back. Ron pushed into her as best he could, being restrained. This was not a new experience, exactly. Ron had done this to her before through admittedly it had been from a different position. She was not sure exactly where to position herself—she did not want to push too hard on him, but she also didn’t want to move too far away and make him strain his neck. Finally she grew fed up with worrying about it; it was taking away from the moment for her. She sat back up on her knees and moved away.

Ron whimpered as she moved out of reach. His face shone with her juices, his eyes eager and his body clearly even more so. “Calm down,” she assured him, “I’m not going far.” And with that she reached forward and pulled his underpants off. His hard-on bounced up briefly, like a puppy eager for attention. “You’re gorgeous,” she whispered, and Ron flushed slightly.

She hopped back up onto the bed, eager to get back to it. She could feel herself nearly dripping after the warmup Ron had given her, and when she climbed up onto him she was almost panting. Looking up, she made and locked eye contact, blue peaking out from under the sweaty red hair. She watched those eyes widen as she touched him gently, positioning him underneath her. As she slid over him he moaned and his eyelids fluttered but still he looked at her. A little bit proud, she smiled at him and began to move her body up and down and back and forth. 

Soon, they were both breathing heavily. Ron pulled at the ropes that bound his hands as he longed to touch her; to grab her hips and slam into her again and again. Still looking him dead in the eye, she sat up straight and grabbed her own breasts. His eyes almost darted to look as she played with her nipples, pink against her dark skin, and moaned, but he was a smart man and had figured out that this time at least, following Hermione’s guidance would yield the best results for him. 

His moans joined her own, growing louder and more ragged with every thrust of her hips. 

“Oh, Hermi—” he stopped, remembering his orders.

“Say it, Ron.”

He waited a beat, to make sure that he had heard her right, but she moaned again, “Say it, Ron! Say my name dammit!”

He almost came right there, hearing Hermione moan his own name and taking total control. “Hermione,” he gasped. “Hermione, I love you.” He did his best to thrust back into her, digging his heels into the mattress. “I love you, and I just—” he paused, groaning louder than ever, “I just want you to feel as good as I do right now.”

“Don’t worry,” she gasped. She opened her mouth to speak again, but a small shriek came out instead. She could feel it coming, the warmth spreading from where the two of them were joined, and her knees began to shake. “I think I’m doing alright over here.” Her rhythmic thrusts faltered and the gripped her breasts tightly. “Oh my God,” she all but whispered.

Harder and faster, Ron thrust into her. He could feel his own orgasm almost upon him, but she had worked so hard tonight that he wanted her to come first. Besides, watching her always made his better so it was not entirely selfless. Moments later, Hermione’s eyes shut tight and her back straightened up as she moaned his name. He could feel her muscles twitching, both inside and outside as her legs and arms shook. And with that he was gone too, groaning as he paused at the height of his final thrust, feeling himself pour into her. 

Hermione sat straight up and breathing heavily with Ron still inside her. Her curly brown hair, much of it broken free from her braid, was frizzier even than it usually was as their breath clouded the room, and the only thought Ron could string together was that she was incredibly beautiful.


End file.
